Super House
by Jeran
Summary: By day he is the limping, grumpy, diagnostician Gregory House. But by night he is the amazing superhero the Sarcastic Savior!
1. Practically A Prologue

Disclaimer: Ah, if I owned House MD they would've never changed Wilson's or Chase's hair.

Author's Note: From the loonybird who brought you the House Rangers, I give you--Super House!

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On the tiny, no resolution TV screen, a pretty local newswoman declared the newfound man saving people and stopping crime around the city. It shot to a clip of one of the people the man had rescued, showing a breathless teenage girl saying, "It was...amazing. He saved me. He was wearing tights. He must've been a superhero. In tights." Then it cut to a blurry picture of a man in, yes, tights, but also, a cape and flamboyant, bright colors and a mask. "And so we wait to hear more on this spectacular vigilante." The news faded out with another clip of someone proclaiming how awesome the super-speedy hero was.

Cameron snorted and leant forward to turn down the volume on House's crappy office TV. They all hated this TV, and had of course filed many complaints such as 'oncology has widescreen and a Tivo, maternity has surround sound and DVR, and we have this crappy 1906 TV, that with we're lucky if it even turns on?' The reply to these was, 'you shouldn't be knowing what maternity and oncology has' and Diagnostics remained Tivo-less, DVR-less, Surround Sound-less, and Widescreen-less.

She, Chase, and Foreman were congregated in House's office at the moment, because he was supposed to be meeting them there. They'd gotten a patient's file from him earlier to diagnose and were eager to discuss it with him. All the more reason for House to stay away. They'd been waiting for an hour and had, in that time, watched Blues Clues and the local news, both of which they were proud to say they fully understood. The first was a bit confusing but they got the hang of it.

"Ah, right, Miss _That's What The Police Are For_ doesn't like vigilantes going about saving people." Chase said, shooting a glare at Cameron. Even a nurse could tell that there was a long-running argument going on between this two. No, it's not whose hair was better, it's more like...

"Come on, Chase. That's what the police _are_ for. They're the ones supposed to be catching criminals and rescuing kittens from trees, not this… psycho in _spandex_." With that retort Cameron sat back down and shuffled some papers as to look important. Sometimes she had difficulty with that and had to remind people.

"Cameron, get a clue. Obviously, the police are not doing their job; otherwise this 'psycho' wouldn't have found a need to go out there in the first place!"

"Maybe he's a PSYCHO!"

"I am_ so _not a psycho." And that was House, entering the room and looking appropriately affronted, blinking at Cameron.

"I wasn't talking about you!" She practically shrieked this at him, her face flushed red with anger and frustration.

House stopped in his steps and stared at her. Foreman and Chase stared, too.

Cameron sighed and then began to breathe calmly.

House, sitting down near Foreman, asked him, "What did_ I miss_?"

"That vigilante prancing around town? Yeah, Cameron and Chase are of separate opinions. And they _never shut up_ about it." Foreman replied in the same quiet, even voice.

House raised an eyebrow. "And what do you say on the subject?"

"The psycho, for all I care, can save all the underage girls he wants as long as he's not hurting anyone."

Shrugging, he said quite rationally, "I agree."

While Foreman seemed shocked House agreed him on something, House looked up at the glaring Chase and Cameron.

"Well. The patient?" Startled, they remembered that, yes, the world did not revolve around the, and gathered the files. "Hop to, hop to..." House encouraged them cheerfully.

"Uh. Okay. Patient's history showed nothing much...few heart problems..."

"LP came up with nothing."

"So did the blood tests."

"And the MRI."

"CATSCAN, too."  
"From the looks of it, House, there's nothing wrong with this patient."

House thumped his cane on the table. "That's because there isn't."

They gave the right response: "what the hell?"

"You...gave...us...a patient's file...a completely healthy patient...to diagnose." Chase stated slowly, as if to make sure.

"Another gold star for Chase!" House squealed sarcastically and then began digging around through the piles of papers on his desk. Apparently looking for something.

Foreman quietly wished him luck with that.

Cameron shuffled some more papers to seem even more important.

"You know, that doesn't work, Cameron..." Foreman told her, having figured her out--not like it was hard.

She ignored him.

He sighed and turned up the news, blaring more news about the superhero, "---only comes out at night, which gives us reason to believe that this man --or is it even a man, some wonder-- leads an regular life by day, but a empowered one at night." It was the pretty newswoman again. Her voice made House glance up and whistle. She continued, "The man has been reported to be 'tall' and 'fast'."

"How descriptive." Cameron muttered nonchalantly.

"Also, and it may not fit everyone's idea of a hero, but he's been rumored to have quite the tongue on him. Making this remark to a man who had just robbed a bank, 'You never listened to McGruff the crime dog, did you?' and then, more surprisingly, to a woman he had _just_ saved from a hostage situation, 'Next time you get taken hostage, wear something that matches better. Pink and orange? What the _hell _is wrong with you?'" The news lady giggled and Cameron mocked her in a high pitched voice.

The news lady then said as in cut back to the main newsman, "Well, John, what do you think of our sarcastic savior?" John the Main News Guy said, also chuckling in the same kind of 'this isn't really that funny' voice, "Yes, he is certainly our Sarcastic Savior, isn't he?"

"Oh, God." House groaned loudly. As they were watching the screen, they couldn't see the look of pure disgust and horror on his face at the name _'sarcastic savior'_.

"What now, House?" Cameron sounded exasperated. Much like Cuddy.

"Can't find my Magic 8 Ball." He quickly lied and dug through more papers. "Grrr."

There was a pause where House moved around more papers, Cameron glared at Chase, Chase glare at Cameron, Foreman glared at both of them for glaring at each other, then Chase and Cameron glared at him for glaring at them for glaring at each other. Consequently, House fell left out.

The door opened and Wilson came in, smiling happily and greeting them, "Good day, brothers in arms! Oh, sorry, sisters, too, didn't see you there, Chase."

House snickered behind a stack of overdue clinic requests and Chase rolled his eyes. Wilson took a seat across from House, picked up the tennis ball and started playing with it. House snatched it back.

"So, Wilson..." Cameron began, already annoying. Chase put his head in his hands. "What do you think of this 'Sarcastic Savior' person?"

Wilson looked blank. "Who?"

Foreman had to laugh. Even if it was an odd time to laugh. Wilson glowered blankly.

"The...superhero, per say." Cameron tried again.

"Oh! Yeah. Well, you know, whatever. Police aren't doing it, someone oughtta, huh?" He shrugged noncommittally.

Chase grinned triumphantly. He nodded and gave Cameron a look that said, "cameron: 1, chase: 2."

House came back from underneath a jumble of CDs and tapes. "Aha!" He held up an Etch-A-Sketch and began working on it.

Wilson took this moment to snatch back the tennis ball and resume playing with it, while House played with the Etch-A-Sketch.

Cameron, ever the skeptic, asked, "Um, House, what're you doing?"

As if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he replied, "Etching a sketch."

She nodded, still skeptical, as if to say, 'riiiight.'

But then, out of the blue, Chase quipped, as he sat up straighter, "Or! Are you sketching an etch?"

House stared, eyes wide. He seemed shocked that Chase--pretty boy, Australian, blonde, 'the truth is out there' Chase-- said that.

Thankfully they were spared any more awkward silence by Cuddy entering. "House! You have clinic duty."

"Really? I'll have to blog this, gosh--"

"Stop it. And get down there. We're overflowing, there's an epidemic of the flu going around."

"Which means over protective mothers and runny nosed children?"

"You know it."

"...I need more Vicodin."

"Lots. You, too, Wilson, you're needed down there."

"Uh. No. I have...uh...patient. Coming, soon. Yeah. And...I'm consulting, later."

"Later. Right now, though..."

"Consulting in Georgia."

"You're consulting in… _Georgia_, Wilson?"

"Yes."

"Uh. Okay...then. We'll go with that. Nevermind, Wilson..."

"How come he gets out of it?"

"Because, House, he is a good doctor who normally does work around here!"

And during this argument the ducklings had managed to slip by unscathingly and escape to the cafeteria, where they found House about 15 minutes after they arrived, and Wilson another 5 minutes after House. And Cuddy 10 minutes after that to yell at House and Wilson. But mostly House. Who're we kidding? Just House.

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Later, after a long day of telling mothers that Children's Tylenol was an over the counter drug, they didn't need a prescription, their child was not dying, it was not cancer, and yes, I am always this much of a jackass, House came home to his 221B Baker Street home and immediately turned on the news, where they were still theorizing about the 'Sarcastic Savior'. He groaned once more at the name, and then switched off the TV, meandered over to his stereo and flicked that on. _Baba O'Reilly _blared out and he was happy to hear something that wasn't about his alter-ego. No one would believe him if he'd told them, of course. Doctor Gregory House? Helping people?

Preposterous.

But it was true.

He, Greg House, was the Sarcastic Savior.

The only thing he regretted was the damn name. Couldn't they think of anything a bit better? Cooler? Less alliterational? Stupid media.

Well, at least they weren't portraying him as villain.

Not yet.

What had he gotten himself into? Superheroism. Nicknames. Media hating.

Now all he needed was an arch nemesis. Had to be next.

Sarcastic Savior...

He grumbled about the name as he leant his cane up against the wall and plopped himself down on his couch. His lovely, lovely couch.

Another thing about the superhero thing. It happened suddenly. He just didn't feel any pain one night. Gone. All gone. At first he'd thought it was a dream...had to be...he'd been dreaming of it for years...no pain...freedom...and he'd woken up and he'd needed the cane again. It was a dream, he rationalized, an incredibly realistic dream. But then it kept on happened and one time he decided to go for a run. In the middle of the night. And, instead of limping along the street, strength overwhelmed him and he sped down the street in a flash. So fast. He went back to bed, after that, and tried to shake himself out of it. Hallucinating? Now, he worried...but every night he waited for that time when he didn't the help of a third leg. It was exhilarating. He tested it out, this newfound power, and found the limits: only at night, super speed, astounding strength, and undeniable need to do something. So he began to. But first...a costume. Didn't every average man who gained powers have one? Of course. He wouldn't want to feel left out. It was just a ragtag sort of costume. He tried to avoid the spandex but it was practically impossible. It was more of a jumpsuit/diving suit. Not completely horrible, which was what he was going for. Yellow and blue were the primary colors. Blue, with yellow lining. The yellow cape with the blue streaks was nice. Impractical. He soon, after a few nights, got rid of it. The boots were his favorite. He'd found them on eBay. Like go-go boots, except blue with yellow stripes and more comfortable. The mask was the original black strip mask. Eh, it'd work. Clichéd, but not bad. He stuck up his hair with hair gel and pretended it was cool.

He knew what he doing with this power, had come to terms with it, and managed to keep another life. It was making him so happy. He lived through the day to be in the night; to run free and help people...see? Nobody would believe him. Doctor House had a limp; Sarcastic Savior could run at top speeds.

Sometimes he felt like Batman.

He just wished he was as rich as Bruce Wayne, as he glanced around his apartment and wished for a pizza. And sometimes he felt like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, he thought, wishing he had a pizza.

Tonight he would go out, again, and fight some dime-a-dozen criminals, like every night. What he needed was an arch nemesis. Someone he could have a long-running feud with…who he respected for genius but hated for evilness...he wondered, suddenly, if Cuddy would have enough free time to take up that job.

And then he wondered what people would say if he told them he was the Sarcastic Savior. "I always saw you as more of a super villain, House. In fact, I've _always_ seen you as soulless evil being."-would be a typical response. He did not plan on telling anyone.

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**Author's Note:** Review! This'll get better, I promise...a little jumbled, I know.

It's going somewhere. Trust me. I've got ideas.

Review, please. Is it good, bad, SHOULD I CONTINUE, do I belong in an insane asylum, do I need cake..? The answer to that last one is yes. Aha. Suggestions are lovely, you know. :D -hint-


	2. Chapter 1

"A _fan club_?" Cameron stared at the screen in disbelief. "The lunatic has a _fan club_?"

As Foreman felt compeled to say, "Well, Chase has a fan club and he's not much," Cameron pumped up the volume on their crappy TV set and leaned in to watch it.

On screen, it was the news people again, doing a daily bit now where they talked about the newest phenomenon in Princeton: the Sarcastic Savior. Religious groups had caused uproar about the use of the word 'savior' but nobody listens to them anyway. Today, the on-the-field reporter was talking to a gaggle of teenagers and young twenties kids who all wore matching blue and yellow shirts and clothes. A Sarcastic Savior fan club.

The president of the group, the teenager who had been first saved by their hero, was yet again breathless as she spoke to the news lady about the fan club. "It's not a fan club!" She avidly denied and then went on to say, "We're just great admirers of him and have joined together to show the world we support him."

"So...you're like a club."

"Yeah."

"Of fans."

"...yeah."

"But you're not a fan club?"

"NO!"

It was mostly made up of creepy girls and even creepier, some guys.

"I can't believe it. This man is breaking rules and ignoring police and--"

"**HEY**, Cameron. Guess what?"

"Yes, Foreman?"

"NO ONE CARES."

Cameron pouted. Sometimes she felt like no one cared around here.

"Thank you, _Eric_." House, behind his desk, remarked loudly and continued playing Solitaire on his computer.

She glared at him.

"Whoa!" House lined up his last cards and the winning sequence thing with the cards rolled over his game. "M_ad_ Solitaire skillz, yo." He clicked 'new game' and again immersed himself in his computer card game.

Chase was away, doing House's clinic duty because, shockingly, Chase had lost a bet. House insisted that Cuddy didn't drink coffee and Chase took him up on that. House, really, was just running out of things to bet on and was now relying on common knowledge. Chase apparently had no common knowledge and was so competitive he was willing to bet House on anything. Even if it meant clinic duty.

So, exempting Chase and Wilson (who was also working, but willingly, prompting disbelief), everyone was hanging out in House's office. 'Everyone' was not much, just Cameron, House, and Foreman, the trio of _Let's Make Friends Even Though I Don't Particularly Like You_ and _Make Sarcasm Not Love_ and _I Despise You All_, respectively.

Naturally Foreman and Cameron kept erupting into trivial little fights about..._hell_, everything.

"WHAT is WRONG with you? That color is not TEAL; it's PERIWINKLE! Are you blind?"

"Obviously you must be, Foreman, matching THAT tie with THAT shirt!!" And so on and so forth.

House had quickly grown tired of it and resorted to playing games and hoping one their patients would die and they'd be called away and he'd be left alone.

But alas.

The sound of something not beeping filled the room along with the TV babbling on and on.

House rummaged around through his desk and then, after acquiring it, tossed his red 'n grey over-sized tennis ball at the TV, hitting it square on with enough impact for it to fall off the cart it was on and crash to the ground in a horrible but beautiful show of falling off a cart and landing onto the floor of hospital. It was loud and the TV made some sputtering noises, proclaiming its last words "_fizzle fizzle zap zap nhhhh shaaaah_."

"Oops." House shrugged and turned back to Solitaire.

"What the _hell_ did you do that for? I was _watching_ that!" Cameron shouted, already angry and now angrier.

"I know. And now, to continue watching it, you can leave." Without shifting his gaze, he waved his hand toward the door happily.

She glared at him and slowly but surely got up and left, trying and failing to slam the door.

"Ahh, finally." House breathed a sigh of relief and Foreman was just about to agree with him when who but the only person who's voice makes House cringe exempting Cameron walked in.

"Dr. Cuddy! How lovely to see you. And _you _and _you_." He said.

Cuddy frowned at him and crossed her arms over her chest, regretting her decision to wear a nice top today.

"What did you break?" She asked, although without need to, one glance around the room told her the TV lay smashed on the floor. "WHY ON EARTH DID YOU--"

"It's a cry for attention; I need love!" He screamed, shocking her for a moment, and in those split seconds he rushed as quickly as he could from the room, adding, "Er, consult!"

Cuddy whirled around in a fit of anger and locked her gaze on Foreman.

He blinked calmly, stood up, and dashed off.

Cuddy was left alone amidst a smashed TV and a lone tennis ball.

"Plastic wrap," She mumbled to herself as she left the room, "everything in that room needs to be plastic wrapped." Indealisticly it could've worked but she knew the man and he could destroy anything.

---------------

The Sarcastic Savior, or as he preferred 'Gregory House' was, later that night, at a bar.

That in itself was normal.

What was not normal was the part where he was not getting drunk.

Despite all of his wishes.

Instead he had been following someone; a local crime boss who was planning something big, House could tell, and soon, and he was going to be there to stop it.

Excitement flowed through him. He'd never done anything as big as this. Sure, saving a few people and stopping a few muggings--meh. For God's sake, cops could do that. He wanted to be above the cops. Do something they couldn't do.

It was easy for him to blend in with the dreary and glum atmosphere at the bar. Unshaven, drunk-looking, messily dressed cripple. Nothing wrong with that image.

He glanced over at the man he'd been following for quite some time through his glass of whiskey. He wasn't drinking it, of course; he'd read enough comic books throughout his years to know that superheroes did not drink--and, yes, this saddened him--but superheroes always had to be at the ready, ready for anything. Like a gunshot, or a flying toaster.

House snorted. Yeah, something was going to happen to him. He should've stayed home and composed a set of newspaper clipping that proclaimed the wonderfulness of the Sarcastic Savior and then placed it in Cameron's mailbox anonymously instead of coming here and wasting time doing nothing.

He was close enough to the crime boss's table to hear snippets of what they were saying; he wished he could be closer but it was too late to move now, it would seem suspicious.

"--Tomorrow---"

"--Jake and Thomas have got it--"

"--hostages?--"

He wondered vaguely what was going down before they seemed to agree on something, got up, and left.

There were about 6 of them; 4 of them in prime physical fitness. 3 about the age of 20-30, 1 in his forties, the other two elderly.

House couldn't possibly take them on in any situation. Alone, that is...but with a sidekick...

Ha. A sidekick. What a wonderful, stupid idea. Just stupid, mostly. I mean really, House mused to himself, what respectable superhero has a sidekick? Well of course Batman, but he's a different story; Batman could wear pink and flowers and still be respectable. Besides, Batman's sidekick was okay: Robin was not an altogether bad sidekick, just, you know, Robin. Spider Man and Superman; now they, they did not has sidekicks, did they? As far as he knew, no.

He got up and, in a drunken fashion, lurched towards the doorway and hung opened the door to lurk outside.

The men were clustered together, shoulders turned away from the cold of the night, whispering.

House, still moving slowly and awkwardly, swaggered his way near them and pretended to throw up over the road.

"--Bailey's--"

"--9--"

"--you make sure to--"

At this point, they noticed him and glowered with a mix of haughtiness and suspiciousness and walked on.

As soon as they were out of sight he pulled himself up, returned to the bar, collected his stuff and paid for his untouched drink and left, feeling as if he had some information that could help him somehow. How exactly? He assured himself he would figure it out eventually as he drove home, again returning to the topic of a sidekick, and who, if he'd ever want one and this occasion was never to occur, he would like to have as one.

As soon as he got home, he fetched his vibrant costume from its hiding place--under the bed-- and glared at it.

_Yellow_ and _blue._

What the hell had he been thinking?

He decided he needed a darker color; how about shades of blue instead of the yellow and blue? The yellow, he thought, would sort of stand out in the darkness. Also, it looked sort of icky and, well, Chase-ish...and by that he meant _gay._

He added 'fix costume or get new one' to his mental list of to do's, which so far had accumulated to.

"**TO DO**--in no particular order

save the world (?)

get a new tv for diagnostics

annoy cameron +

annoy cuddy +

learn how to make mac and cheese (correctly)

fix costume or get new one

save the world again

fire chase

admire chase's hair (note: do not fire chase) +

annoy wilson +

steal wilson's food +

do NOT get sidekick

buy new batman comic ("the joker can't be dead!")

find out what kind of shampoo chase uses (note: do not fire chase)

form an alliance with foreman ("join the dark side!")

do not fire foreman

buy duct tape

duct tape cameron's mouth shut +

buy cookies +

eat cookies +

form an alliance with a decent cop

make a sandwich +

eat sandwich +

save world again...again

get an arch nemesis (!!!!)

meet batman

learn how to stop making to-do lists so long

Note: mark a 'to do' that may take a prolonged amount of time, or may just not happen at all. + denote a 'to do' that may need to be done repeatedly; more then once."

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Author's Note: -falls over laughing in insanity-

REVIEW.


	3. Meet Dr Lahey

"Super speed." Cameron scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"What is wrong with super speed?" Chase retorted, tearing his eyes from the screen to glare at Cameron and her eye-rollingness.

"It's just running fast. What could you possibly do--" Cameron began; House cut in with a nonchalant,

"One time Superman ran so fast around the world he turned back time and stopped Lex Luthor from breaking California off from the rest of the world. How cool was _that_?"

Foreman replied in a monotone, "Pretty cool."

Cameron pursed her lips together and looked angry in a passive-aggressive way.

Chase hid his triumphant grin behind his newspaper.

Because of the TV-crashing fiasco, Cuddy refused to get them a new TV, so they had relocated to the Maternity Ward Lounge and had been there, watching TV for a while, without being found out. No doubt because House scared the Maternity doctors out of their wits. And even though Maternity had cable, there happened to be nothing interesting on at this time of day except for news so that's what Chase and Cameron were watching. Foreman had his iPod headphones plugged in and only spoke to say something like, "that's cool" or "whatever" or something in an equally bored voice. House was reading the latest Harry Potter book and would actually gasp "NO, HARRY!!" or "DON'T USE THAT SPELL!" or "STUPID RON!" to no avail; the book showed no signs of changing whatsoever. Where was the super power to change the endings of books? Alas, not in the hands of Gregory House.

As usual, Cameron and Chase had been in a fight.

The newslady giggled onscreen and Cameron literally growled.

"Cameron, I'm worried about the effects your anger issues might have on the workplace..."

"Shut up, House."

"See? Foreman, what do you think?"

"I agree."

"Thank you very much, Foreman."

"Whatever."

There was a pause, tension hung in the air...

"Super speed." Cameron scoffed quietly.

---------

For weeks the Sarcastic Savior had been stopping drug dealers, bank robberies, muggings, etc, etc.

Superheroism wasn't all the fun he'd expected. Actually, it was fun. The fighting, the saving, the being sarcastic. And then escaping just before the press reached the scene! Oh, the rush.

But it was repetitive. One night he was sure he had just caught this guy the other night. And he had! The man had escaped from jail. He could not help thinking to himself how hopeless this was...he needed to fight big evil. Something that would make a difference. Before he gave up completely.

And that would disappoint his fanclub. Naturally this was on the bottom of his very, _very_ long to-do list.

--------------

The man sitting across from Dr. Lisa Cuddy was the newest addition the PPTH staff and the donor of the largest amount of money they'd seen in years.

He was Carr Lahey, M.D, PhD. He was about 40 years old, looked 50, and acted 30. He was a surgeon and a doctor. Not a black mark on his resume. Perfect career. Rich. He was friendly but polite and nice and passionate about his work and giving money to PPTH, which, he claimed was a "perfect example of what hospitals around America need to be like," (which just proved to Cuddy he hadn't met House yet.) Lahey had donated 3 million on terms that he got hired. A stunned Cuddy and equally stunned board of directors agreed, of course. Dr. Lahey was the perfect addition to this staff.

Now all Cuddy was worried about was should Lahey meet House. She was going to go to all limits to stop them from meeting; it would be catastrophous if they should. Cuddy remembered what happened last time...

She told her secretary to not let House in during her meeting with Lahey. By any physical force do not let House in.

---------

Nothing was going on.

House despised it.

"Alright." He stood up and walked across the room. "You guys can sit here and waste the day away watching smut TV and eating fat filled foods, but_ I'm_ going to do something useful."

A silence; then laughter.

House, frowning, turned on his heel and left the room haughtily.

Cuddy would be a good person to annoy right now. In fact, that was a great idea.

But as he tried to barge his way into Cuddy's office as usual, he was stopped by... a... secretary?!

"Excuse me." House said, and walked around her/him. But the genderless secretary continued to pursue him. Finally, he lifted up his cane and just kind of shoved her/him away and entered Cuddy's office.

"Hello, hello, don't stand up...no, no autographs, please..." He bowed and looked at the angered Cuddy and the old-ish man sitting across her desk.

"Dr. House!" Cuddy said, trying to hide her malice and hate but failing. "Ahem. Dr. House, this is our newest doctor, Dr. Carr Lahey. Dr. Lahey, Dr. House." She motioned between them and watched painfully as Lahey stood up to shake House's hand but House ignored him. "Dr. House is head of our Diagnostics department here." She said, as if this could explain for the lack of hand shaking.

Lahey sat back down and waved a hand at the seat next to him, indicating House should join them. House didn't.

"Dr. Lahey will be alternating between different departments, here, since he's..." Cuddy began saying as she sat down.

"Does he speak?" House asked, looking at Lahey peculiarly.

"What?"

"I said, does he speak?"

"Of course I speak, Dr. House. I'm not dumb." Lahey said in a joking tone.

Just about the time when House felt like saying, 'I beg to differ', Cuddy sputtered a bit, smiled, and said, "Well, here comes Dr. Wilson!" And, waving, she beckoned Wilson in.

Wilson, who looked like he'd just been walking by and slightly confused, entered and glanced around and took in the situation very quickly, adapting just a second later. "Good morning, Dr. Cuddy." He greeted her, and then to House, "Hello, House."

House nodded at him, then said in a sort of secret, reserved tone. "Jimmy."

Pausing to give him a strange look, Wilson turned back to Cuddy, who also paused, and in these pauses, Lahey jumped up and shook Wilson's hand.

"I'm Carr Lahey. I'm new here." Lahey said with a sickening smile.

Wilson smiled slightly and nodded. "James Wilson. Nice to have you here, I'm sure..." He trailed off, watching Cuddy make motions behind Lahey's back. She pointed to House, then to the door. And again. And again. The amount of times she did it was insulting to Wilson's intelligence, really, but he understood and then glanced around and said, "Well, I only came to find Dr. House and ask his opinion on an important matter concerning a patient..." He glanced at House and then started for the door.

"Fare thee well, Cuddy and Carface." House bowed again and followed Wilson out.

Lahey laughed a little and Cuddy said, obviously relieved House hadn't said much, "Those two are a few of the best doctors we have here."

"Dr. Cuddy, I hope to join those selected few."

---------

"Who was that?" Wilson mumbled as they left.

"Dr. Carr Richard Lahey, MD, PhD...44 years old on March 18th...160 pounds...5'11..." House rattled off, reading from something.

"How'd you know that?" Wilson asked, peering over at House as they got into an elevator.

"Driver's License. Duh." House flipped the card over to show Wilson, then continued reading..."Unmarried..."

"You stole his driver's license?"

"It was in his purse." House pulled out a black Sharpie and began scribbling on it.

"His purse?"

"See? He deserved it; he has a purse..."

"I don't know why I expect anything else from you, House." Wilson sighed dramatically. Then he looked over at House and said quietly, "Circle the F and X out the M."

House laughed evilly and the elevator DINGed in response.

---------

"Cameron, I either just met your future husband or Chase's future boyfriend... what? Did I say that last part aloud? Whoops." House slammed the door to the Maternity lounge and a miffed-looking Wilson opened it after him. House took the couch and Wilson loitered around the couch.

"What are you talking about?" Cameron, giving into temptation, asked him.

"Dr. Carr Lahey, MD, PhD." House tossed the stolen Driver's License toward Cameron and she ducked, then picked it and inspected it.

"Well, I can't read anything through the scribbles, House." She said, sounding genuinely upset. She handed it back to him.

"He's old, smart, rich, and BORING. Perfect for you." House shrugged and looked at the TV. More news; more Sarcastic Savior. "What're you guys, obsessed?"

Chase, holding the remote protectively, glared at him. "No."

"Oh... okay."

"Can you believe Cameron scoffs at that?" Chase directing the remote a the TV, showing footage of the Sarcastic Savior dashing through the streets and then taking down a few muggers, asking the newslady if she _really_ wanted to see how fast he was, then more of the stopping-bad-guys part.

"Chase, just because you think he's sexy and she doesn't is no reason to get upset." House commented as he picked back up his Harry Potter book and resumed his 'screaming at the book' bit.

Chase rolled his eyes.

Wilson decided to speak despite all better advice from the voices in his head telling him no one would listen, "I think this Savior person... very suspicious."

Cameron and Chase looked at him, and then looked back at the TV.

See, the voices told his cautiously, no one listens. Wilson shrugged and then sat down by House and watched TV. As far as he knew he didn't have any patients. But then again, he _didn't_ really know.

-------

Author's Note: Finally updated. Review, please. Comments, questions, suggestions...


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